Black Coffee
by NeonHorizon
Summary: How does Kurogiri spend Christmas? This is a story about Kurogiri experiencing Christmas in an unexpected way and how it begins to change his life. Just written for fun because Kurogiri doesn't get enough love. Now a casual series!
1. Chapter 1

NeonHorizon: I just wanted Kurogiri to have a nice Christmas so I wrote this. Might consider making a fanfic for Kurogiri in the future featuring this OC, depending on how you lovely readers feel. Happy reading!

* * *

He saved a life on Christmas Eve. It was by no means intended. Honestly, it was more of a reflex to open a warp gate when he saw the little girl running into the road and the truck speeding toward her. It all happened so quickly that he struggled to process what he had done for a moment.

The warp gate opened in front of the child. She tumbled through it and landed in front of Kurogiri on the sidewalk with tears running down her face. The truck's horn honked loudly and it sped past them. The honk frightened the child and she gripped the leg of Kurogiri's pants with a small, trembling hand.

He peered down at her, still trying to work through what had occurred. He was out running errands. It was supposed to be quick and easy. Yet here he was now; standing on the sidewalk with a crying child that he just rescued from a brutal death. Kurogiri, still not quite sure what he should do now, looked around for someone to leave the girl with.

This stretch of road was busy with vehicles, but not pedestrians. The few people that were in the area just gave him curious stares before continuing on their way. The man realized that help would not be offered and began to contemplate just leaving her. After all, he had business to attend to. Items to acquire for Shigaraki. Contacts to speak with.

Looking down at the child again, his glowing eyes narrowed slightly. This girl had to be around six at the oldest. She was trembling and sobbing; still terrified from nearly being decimated by the speeding cargo truck. Wearing a pink dress with a matching pink ribbon in her bobbed, wavy, pale blue hair.

The hair made him think of Shigaraki, of his duty to Shigaraki, and he began to weigh his options. Leaving her here alone would be cruel. Even he knew this much and could admit it. Taking her to the police was out of the question since he was basically a villain and All for One would not want him going anywhere near a police station. Bringing her back to the bar was also out of the question.

"Michiko! Michiko, where are you?!" The desperate cries came from down the street, around the corner. A female voice that held fear and despair.

Kurogiri held out a dark, misty hand toward the child and it was accepted without hesitation. It was perplexing. This child was trusting him so completely. He set a brisk pace, but made sure that the little girl was able to keep up as he led the way toward the street corner.

His intent was to release her hand before he reached the corner and just send her ahead. He had no desire to deal without whatever was happening and he knew that if her mother saw him leading the child, it was likely she would misunderstand. He had things to do. He needed to be quick and return to Shigaraki. Kurogiri had no time to be playing hero.

The woman rounded the corner before he could reach it, still calling the name "Michiko", and Kurogiri was once again perplexed. This woman was young. She had to be in her mid or late twenties. Like the little girl, she had pale blue hair. However, hers hung loosely past her shoulders in elegant waves. Her eyes were a vibrant magenta shade and shone with fresh tears when she saw her child.

In the next few seconds, she had closed the distance between them and was on her knees on the sidewalk. Hugging her daughter and softly scolding her for wandering off while they were shopping. "Never, ever do that again, Michiko! What if something had happened?!"

"I-I almost got hit! By a truck! B-but he saved me! He save me, Mom!" The little girl hugged back, but then leaned away to point at Kurogiri.

The woman held the girl closer as she looked up to meet his glowing gaze and she did the strangest thing. She smiled at him. A true, pure, grateful smile that caused the villain's dark heart to beat double for a moment. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Her voice was warm, kind. Her tone reflected such a deep gratitude that he, for a brief instant, felt like a hero.

That was Christmas Eve. It was now Christmas Day. Kurogiri was given time for himself, but had nothing to do so he simply wandered the back alleys. He had trouble remembering the last time he had time to himself. It was so strange to find himself trying to figure out what he actually wanted to do. He was used to his days being spent aiding Shigaraki or running errands.

After the incident the previous day, he was wary of going near the streets. He had left briskly after the woman thanked him. He had only done one small thing, but it had caused such an impact. It brought on feelings of puzzlement. It made him feel something, but it was hard to place. Like it was at the edge of his mind. Like the answer was behind a screen, blurring it and distorting it; making it nearly impossible to determine what it was.

"Ah! It's you! Mist-san!" a small, high-pitched voice called.

He paused in his steps. Kurogiri had been walking down an alley to avoid people and yet he was found so quickly. He turned to look and found the little girl from the day before. She ran up to him without hesitation and threw her arms around him in a hug.

"Mist-san! Thank you so much for yesterday! I didn't think we'd see you again, but here you are! Mom, look!"

"Michiko, wait…oh!" The woman came around the corner and smiled warmly. "Hello! I'm sorry. Michiko, you shouldn't force hugs on people."

"But, Mom, I found him! I didn't think we'd see him again!"

"Excuse me, but is there a reason why you hoped to see me?" Kurogiri was hesitant to speak. Fearful that they intended to go to the police. Fearful that they recognized him as a shady person, that he would be incarcerated, that he would be torn away from his duties to Shigaraki. He might need to make a quick escape.

The little girl stood back and beamed, but grabbed his sleeve. "You have to come with us! I want to give you something!"

"You wish to give me something?" Now he was really confused. However, he let the child pull him along down the alley. Now that she had said this, it did not seem like they disliked him. Quite the contrary; they both seemed especially grateful for what he had done the day before.

Her mother walked alongside him and smiled a bit sheepishly. "Michiko. Yesterday after you left us, she wanted to get you a gift. I told her that we might not see you again, but she insisted."

Something about her smile made him feel a bit less reluctant to go. Any other reluctance melted away as they came to their destination: a café. A warm, sweet-smelling café that bore the name "Good Coffee". The woman unlocked the front door to admit them, making him realize that this café actually belonged to her.

"I'll go get it! Don't leave, okay, Mist-san?" Michiko hurried to the back room and could be heard running up a flight of stairs.

Kurogiri stood near the door, feeling a faint awkwardness. This was nothing like how he was used to being treated. Christmas always passed without a gift. His efforts went without a word of thanks. To be so appreciated felt strange, but there was a flicker of something. A warm feeling. A good feeling.

The woman walked to the counter and turned to look at him over her shoulder. "Have a seat. I'll make some coffee." She gestured toward the closest table and set about making coffee for two. "Do you have a name, Mist-san?"

He hesitated to answer, but finally caved in when she set down a tray on the table. Two cups of black coffee. One cup of warm milk with cinnamon. A small pitcher of cream. A sugar container. As well as three slices of strawberry cake and three forks. "I go by Kurogiri."

She seated herself across from him after setting out the cake slices and cups. "Kurogiri. That's a pretty cool name. Mysterious! I like it!"

Now that he was closer, Kurogiri could see more about her features. Her skin was a warm, fawn sort of tone with dark freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheekbones. When she smiled at him, the smile settled easily on her features. Not at all forced. Sweet and natural. "And your name?"

"Yawarakai Misora." She blew gently on her coffee before taking a dainty sip.

Kurogiri found himself staring as his dark, misty hands moved to the cup she had poured for him. She never put cream or sugar into her coffee; she simply began drinking it black. Another perplexing thing to him. He poured a small amount of sugar into his own before taking a sip. To his astonishment, it actually tasted quite good. Not bitter in the least. The beans had been perfectly roasted.

"You are quite skilled," he stated. "Thank you for this. I'm afraid I don't have-"

She held up a hand, still smiling. "It's free. I couldn't charge you, Kurogiri-san. Not after what you did yesterday." The smile on her face began to fade as she lowered her gaze to her coffee, absently swirling the cup to making it swish around. "Michiko's all I have now. I don't know if I could keep going if something happened to her."

A pang. Like a small shock of electricity to his chest. His glowing eyes narrowed and he sipped his coffee again. "I don't mean to pry, but where is her father?"

Misora set down her cup and ran her fingers through her wavy, pale blue hair. "This is her first Christmas without him. We separated three years ago. We'd been together since high school. I had Michiko when I was still pretty young. I guess…maybe he just got bored. He started talking to a girl overseas and moved. The first two years, he came to visit for Christmas and New Year's. But our divorce finalized this year and he just…"

She grimaced and wiped her sleeve across her eyes. "I guess he was just waiting for the final cut. He called and said he had plans with _her_ this year. I can deal with it, but Michiko's been having a hard time."

Kurogiri was not a sentimental man. However, he felt another pang. A flicker of something really deep down. Like a burning, buried in his chest beneath layers and layers of heavy darkness. He set down his cup and lowered his head. "That is cruel."

"I've got it!" Running footsteps could be heard before the little girl came running into the café again. She was holding a haphazardly wrapped Christmas present in her little hands and Michiko was trying hard to contain her smile. "Mist-san, I wanted to give you this! Thank you for saving me yesterday!"

"It's Kurogiri-san, Michiko." Her mother smiled as the child looked from her to the man.

"Kurogiri-san?" She tilted her head, but then grinned. "That's such a cool name! Mom, did he show you his quirk?"

"Michiko, why don't you give him his gift? And it's not polite to make someone show you their quirk." Misora scooted out a chair for the little girl as Michiko approached the man.

"I'm sorry! This is for you! I wrapped it myself and…it doesn't look very pretty…but I really wanted you to have it!"

It was clear the girl was proud of whatever it was. Her mother seemed excited to see him open the gift as well. This was so different from how he was used to being treated. Shigaraki was often demanding. After all, he tended to act more like a spoiled child than an aspiring villain. Michiko showed more maturity than he had ever seen Shigaraki display. Her mother was kind and generous. She seemed unbothered by his appearance and the cold, quiet way that he regarded the two.

Looking down at the messily wrapped gift, he began tearing away the wrapping paper. Inside was a dark red scarf crocheted from a warm, thick material. Along with it were a few wrapped candies that the girl had probably thrown in at the last minute. Kurogiri, being unable to remember the last time he received a Christmas gift, stared at the items and felt that flickering again. Like a flame desperately trying to stay lit. Desperate to seek fuel to burn brighter.

"Thank you. Michiko-san, Misora-san. I appreciate these gifts." He paused before continuing, looking at the mother and daughter. "These are perfect for the cold weather. Thank you."

Misora beamed as Michiko told him to try the cake her mother had made. "I mean, of course, you could stay for dinner. If you don't already have plans. I'm making something pretty special that Michiko picked out and there's probably going to be a lot left over."

He had no plans for the rest of the day. All for One had given him a full twenty-four hours to do as he pleased. That meant not catering to Shigaraki's whims. Not dealing with errands or meeting with potential new villains. He had time.

Looking at the two, he found that flickering sort of feeling growing. A warmth. A hint of bliss. These strangers were being so kind to him, so grateful for what he had done. Giving the faintest of nods, he reached for his cup of coffee. "I would be honored to join you for dinner."


	2. Chapter 2

NeonHorizon: I had to write a follow up. I'm totally caught up on the manga. That's why I chose Kurogiri for the Christmas story. But this follow up needed to happen because I enjoyed writing the last part so much. He deserves to be happy.

* * *

A week had passed since the day he saved a life. Lingering in an alley across the street from "Good Coffee", the shadowy villain watched customers come and go. He was waiting for the right moment. A moment when he could enter without worrying about being spotted by law enforcement or a hero.

Kurogiri thought back to Christmas day. He normally spent the day alone and it passed like any ordinary day, but this year had been different. It was special. He had been given a gift, ate a home-cooked meal with a kind mother and her child, and he had been praised for saving the little girl.

Remembering the way her mother thanked him, he felt that odd sensation again. There was something within him trying to surface. Something faint, trying to fight its way through layers of thick darkness. His glowing eyes narrowed as he attempted to identify what it was. It was so difficult for him to even try to grasp. Like trying to grab onto a spiral of smoke.

Within the café, there was one employee working. A young man with glasses and shoulder-length black hair. He bustled around the café, smiling at the customers he served and speaking to Misora in a friendly way. The woman flashed him a smile. There was no sign of her daughter in the café.

The dark, misty man in the alley lowered his eyes to the ground and he adjusted the crimson scarf settled around his neck. His free hand held something. A little box. Wrapped simply. Containing something delicate and precious. An envelope was tucked into his pocket. Another small gift.

He had hoped to find the café as empty as it had been on Christmas day, but Kurogiri had misjudged its popularity. It took a while for it to empty out and, finally, all were gone except for Misora and her employee. The woman bid the young man farewell as he left around late afternoon and it was finally clear for Kurogiri to enter.

His steps were slow and deliberate. There was a slight feeling of reluctance. A part of him, somewhere at the back of his mind, worried that coming here might place Misora into the path of danger. If he was followed by someone, for instance. He had been careful to be sure that Shigaraki was occupied with something before he left the bar, but there was always a chance that a police officer or hero might have spotted him.

The little bell above the door jingled as he entered the café. Misora had been standing at the counter, her back to the door as she prepared something. "I'll be with you in a minute," she called over her shoulder.

Kurogiri was silent. He wondered where her daughter was. He wondered how she would react to seeing him again so soon. He wondered how long he could be gone from the bar before his absence was noticed. If All for One needed him to return, he would do so without question. However, he wanted to know what that feeling was that kept trying to push to the surface of his mind.

Misora turned around, holding a cup of steamed milk, and her sharp magenta eyes widened. A grin tugged at her lips and she looked absolutely delighted to see him. "Kurogiri-san! Welcome! What can I get for you? It's on me."

He simply stood there for a moment as he felt it again. Something deep in his heart and mind, flickering to life. Like a flame trying to stabilize and burn brighter, fighting against a darkness that threatened to consume it. Kurogiri gave a small nod of greeting. "You don't need to do that."

"What? It's cold outside, isn't it? Here; I'll make something special for you. So what brings you to my neighborhood?" She began making another cup of steamed milk, but with a bit of sugar added. Coming around the counter with the cups, she brought them to a table and set them down before walking to flip the sign to "closed".

"I brought a gift for Michiko." Which was true. The envelope he was carrying contained a New Years card as well as a small amount of money. He recalled what Misora had told him before. She and her daughter were spending their first Christmas and New Years without the little girl's father.

The surprise and gratitude in her expression added a bit of fuel to the flicker in his core. She covered her mouth as she quietly thanked him, a wet sheen to her gaze as she lowered it to her cup of milk. Misora's pale blue hair fell around her face as she released a sigh. "Kurogiri-san…you know, you really made her Christmas. Well, you made _our_ Christmas. If you hadn't come along…I just hate to think about what might've happened. You're my hero."

The flicker grew even stronger. It felt like he was just on the verge of grasping whatever this feeling was. So close to identifying what was trying to surface. He stared down at his own cup, attempting to focus on that feeling. Like trying to see through a smokescreen.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make things so heavy." She flashed him a grin again and nodded toward his cup. "Go on. Have a taste and warm up. It's freezing out there, right?"

The steamed milk was sweet and warmed the man throughout. It suited her personality. Warm, kind. Misora and her daughter both treated him so well. He was accustomed to Shigaraki's thankless demands so their gratitude was quite refreshing. "This is very good," he commented.

"I'm glad you like it. Michiko went to a friend's house, but she'll be back later. How late can you stay?"

Kurogiri was unsure of how long Shigaraki would be occupied with what he was doing. He knew that he would need to make his way back to the bar soon, but he was reluctant. The more time he spent around Misora, the closer he got to uncovering that strange feeling that was trying to rise to the surface. It was perplexing and he wanted to know what it was. Why he started to feel this every time Misora showed gratitude and why the feeling grew when she called him her hero.

Across the table, she was looking toward the café door with narrowed eyes. She ran her fingers through her wavy, pale blue hair and frowned. "I'll be right back. Can you wait here?"

"Is something wrong, Misora-san?" He looked toward the front of the café. Standing outside were three young men. Even from this distance, Kurogiri could tell that these men were not customers. Quite the contrary; they looked like ruffians. Troublemakers. He imagined that if they were to enter the café, it would be to cause problems for Misora.

The men were all taller than her, but she still approached the door with confidence. Pushing open the door, she glared at the three. "Can I help you?"

Kurogiri watched and listened. Money was demanded, threats were made to damage her business. Crude remarks about Misora were made by one of the young men. It was when one of them started toward her that Kurogiri stood from his chair, subconsciously moving as if to help.

It was not needed, as he soon saw. She swept the young man's legs out from beneath him in one swift move and crouched, pressing a hand against the pavement under the fallen boy. The concrete softened below him, making him sink into it like it was pudding, and then it hardened around his limbs to trap him in place.

As he watched this occur, he found himself staring intently at Misora. It was not common for Kurogiri to be impressed, but he had not expected this. He saw one of the men try to grab Misora's wrist and acted before the man's hand could reach her. A warp gate opened between the delinquent and Misora. The boy fell through it and disappeared.

The woman's eyes widened at the sight of the warp gate, but she was not unsettled by it. If anything, she seemed almost mesmerized with its appearance. The third assailant took off running down the sidewalk and Misora crouched down to speak to the one she had trapped. A few words were said, but Kurogiri was unable to hear her.

The cement softened again and Misora pulled the young man up by the front of his shirt. She spoke once more, eyes narrowed, and then released him. The boy, with tears of panic streaming down his face, bowed again and again before sprinting after his friend. Misora grimaced and entered the café, ruffling her hair and sighing to herself. "Sorry about that, Kurogiri-san."

"What was that?"

"Just some kids. Some people think that since it's just me, it would be easy to rob the café. I don't like having to use my quirk for stuff like that, but someone had to teach them a lesson. Their parents clearly didn't." She sat across from him and a sheepish grin took form on her lips. "What you did just now…that was really cool. Thank you for helping me out again."

"It was subconscious," he tried to explain. It was just an excuse though. On some level, he knew that he had fully intended to help her.

"That's what makes you so cool," she argued, lifting her cup. "You saved Michiko without thinking, too, didn't you? It's heroic."

That word again. Hero. Heroic. A pulse, deep within the layers of darkness. A flicker of light at his core. He peered down at his cup of steamed milk and found himself struggling again to identify what this sensation was.

"Of course, now I owe you again." Misora's tone was playful, teasing. When Kurogiri looked at her across the table, there was a faint pinkish hue that dusted her cheeks. Highlighting the dark freckles and bringing even more warmth to her lightly tan complexion. "I guess you'll have to stay for dinner again. So I can make it up to you."

"I suppose I don't have a choice." Not that he minded. He knew his duty to Shigaraki would bring him back to the bar at the end of the day. If absolutely necessary, he could be reached by phone. What he really wanted, more than anything else, was to discover what this flickering feeling was.

The bell above the door jingled and running footsteps alerted Kurogiri to Michiko's return. The little girl wasted no time in rushing over to hug him, grinning in that warm, sweet way that her mother did. "Kurogiri-san, you're back!"

To have someone so happy to see him was beyond rare. He had trouble remembering the last time someone was so pleased to see him before Christmas day. Michiko and Misora were both so welcoming, so delighted to see him. It made him feel better than he could ever remember feeling before. The hollowness he normally felt was replaced by something.

Like he belonged. Like he was being accepted, cherished. It was so strange to feel this way when he was normally regarded as little more than a servant. Kurogiri simply let the child hug him, but was hesitant to react. It was difficult for him to know how he should react since he was not used to being treated this way.

"Are you having dinner with us? Mom's making soba tonight." Michiko's eyes widened as she stared at the dark, misty man.

"See? Now you _have_ to stay for dinner. How can you say "no" to that face?" Misora laughed lightly and shook her head. "No, it's alright if you already have plans, Kurogiri-san. No pressure."

"I would like to stay for dinner. As long as I'm not imposing." He hoped that he would not regret this decision. He hoped that he could soon identify what this feeling was that was stirring deep down inside of him.

As before, Kurogiri allowed himself to be led to the living area above the café. He waited patiently with Michiko as her mother prepared their food. His offers to help in the kitchen were brushed off, Misora insisting that he just relax while she cook. It felt odd to have someone cooking for him, just as it had before. Though it did not go unappreciated.

He had discovered that Misora was rather capable in the kitchen. Christmas dinner had been delicious and this New Years soba was equally good. She served green tea with the soba, as well as dumplings. While they ate, he tried again to see through the dark veil to his core where that flickering was growing stronger. He could almost identify it, but there were still layers blocking him from fully recognizing whatever it was.

The New Years card was given to Michiko and she thanked him with a hug. Each show of gratitude seemed to peel away another layer of darkness and he very hesitantly gave her a half-hug. Goodness. It was goodness that he was feeling, along with something else. At the very least, he was glad to have recognized how good he felt in the company of these two. Not just happy, but like he, himself, was good.

Misora gave him a smile from her seat beside him. "You're too sweet, Kurogiri-san. Thank you."

It was now that he brought forth the small box he had tucked away earlier. Drawing it from his pocket, he set it in front of her on the table. "Misora-san, this is for you."

She blinked in surprise and nervously brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "You…didn't have to," she mumbled, becoming shy. Misora carefully unwrapped the little box and her smile returned full force upon seeing the gift inside.

The necklace was lifted and the little charm glimmered in the light. The young woman's eyes filled with such happiness that Kurogiri was unable to tear his gaze from her face. She secured the necklace around her neck and lovingly touched the charm. When she looked at him again, there was a pink tint to her cheeks. "Kurogiri-san…you really are the best, you know that?"

Even if that flickering at his core was unable to fully light, he felt good. He felt something he had not felt for quite some time. Something he could never feel from his work for Shigaraki or All for One. True happiness. He was appreciated. Maybe even loved. To Misora and her daughter, Kurogiri was a hero.


	3. Chapter 3

NeonHorizon: I know it's a little late for a Valentine's Day chapter...

* * *

It was Valentine's Day. This was, by no means, a special day for him. In the past, every Valentine's Day passed without any sort of special event. He followed his everyday routine and the morning slipped by without merit. This year was to be like any other.

Over a month had passed since he last paid a visit to the café "Good Coffee" and with each day that passed, the layers of darkness rebuilt themselves. The spark, the flickering flame of goodness that had begun to form at his core, was gradually shrouded in bleakness once more until it was almost forgotten. It was like the darkening of clouds from their fluffy, pure paleness on a spring morning to storm clouds before a disaster.

Kurogiri only knew the spark was there when he thought about them. Misora and her daughter. Christmas Eve, when he had rescued the child purely on reflex. Christmas Day, when he spent the holiday with them. New Years, when he had last seen them. He felt the spark when he thought of Misora's smile. Of when she called him her hero.

There was goodness somewhere deep down, beneath the thick layers of obscuring shadow, but he had difficulty finding it on his own. He needed help. He needed to be guided back to it if he ever wanted to feel it surface again.

This was an impossibility and he was aware of it. He had a job to do. His duty to All for One and Shigaraki was greater than his own desires. It was odd. Before Christmas, he could not recall ever wanting anything so badly.

Currently, Kurogiri was in the bar. Standing behind the counter, idling while Shigaraki attempted to stack playing cards. Waiting for a task to be given to him. Waiting for Shigaraki to demand something, as he often did.

Time seemed to move at a snail's pace as he watched the red-eyed villain's house of cards steadily grow to an almost impressive height before the twitch of a finger sent them fluttering to the floor. Shigaraki stared down at the mess for a moment before releasing a frustrated sigh and scratching at his neck.

Across the counter, the younger villain resigned to checking something on his phone and his eyes widened. His posture became a little more hunched forward as he gripped it tightly with four fingers. "That's right. It came out a few days ago, didn't it? I don't even have it yet. I'll fall behind. I can't allow it."

"Is something wrong, Shigaraki Tomura?"

"This." He held the phone so the screen faced Kurogiri, his eyes narrowing again into a glower as his free hand scratched frantically at his neck. "I want this. I didn't preorder it because I thought I had more time. I want you to look for this."

Kurogiri was given no option to say "no", not that he would ever refuse a request from Shigaraki. Though this now meant he could leave the bar. He may not be able to interact with Misora and her daughter, but he could at least walk past the café and possibly catch a glimpse. It might reignite that spark buried deep in his core.

As he departed, he resolved that he would find the game Shigaraki wanted and he would get it at any cost. If it would placate the villain and prevent a possible future tantrum, then it would be in his best interest to acquire it. Surely someone could be persuaded to give him a copy of the game if the stores were sold out.

Thankfully, he could get this done quickly. It was a small task to open a warp gate near a game store location. It seemed that fate was smiling on Kurogiri that day because the clerk informed him that there was only one copy of the game left and he soon had it in his possession. This meant he would have extra time before Shigaraki could expect his return. The red-eyed villain had gone to scout out other game stores for a copy on his own so it could be a while before he returned to the bar himself.

Fate. Everything falling into place, the universe truly smiling upon Kurogiri. Valentine's Day seemed to be his lucky day. As he approached the end of the alley, facing the café "Good Coffee", he saw that he caught them during a lull in activity. Misora and her employee were there; the woman working behind the counter and the young man serving a customer that was seated near the window.

With so few people, he was able to take a moment to simply watch. The instant he saw Misora's face, it all came flooding back to him. That moment when she called him her hero. Rescuing Michiko, spending the holidays with the mother and child. The gratitude, the warmth.

The flame that had been flickering in his heart began to burn brighter and he could feel the layers of shadow starting to ease away. It was a painfully slow progression and things were still quite murky, but Kurogiri was at least able to enjoy the feeling of goodness that was resurfacing now.

Even from this distance, he could see the faint glint of her necklace. The charm necklace he had gifted to her on New Year's. Seeing that she wore it, he could feel it increasing. Goodness. Light. Acceptance. Gratitude. All things he seemed only capable of feeling with her and Michiko.

It was perplexing. Whatever the layers of shadow were hiding, whatever was at his core, he was unable to place what it was. Not quite just a feeling that was hidden, but it felt like something vital. If he tried to focus on it, tried to identify it, Kurogiri found that it brought him only frustration. It always eluded him.

His glowing eyes narrowed as he pondered why it was that Misora and Michiko made him feel this way. Why they were so accepting, so fond of him. Of course, over a month had passed since he last saw them. This was only partially due to his duties to All for One and Shigaraki. A few times, he had the opportunity to stop by the café since he was out running errands and he had opted to avoid them.

This would have to be enough for him. To simply see the café and look back on the few memories he made with the mother and daughter. Surely she would be upset that he had avoided interacting with them. Explaining his duty to All for One was out of the question. She would be disappointed.

Kurogiri was watching her, simply allowing the warmth and light to flicker at his core, when Misora happened to look in his direction. He saw her mouth fall open and uncertainty set in. It was unclear if she was angry, frightened, or simply surprised. It was only when her lips spread into a bright smile that he realized she was delighted.

She turned to say something to her employee and dusted her hands on her apron before making her way toward the café door. Kurogiri turned and prepared to take his leave. This was only meant to be a brief viewing; not a visit.

"Kurogiri-san, wait!" Her voice pierced the air, pierced through the layers of darkness around his heart, and it forced him to turn to her once more. Misora's pale blue hair was held back in a wavy ponytail with a few loose strands hanging in her face. When she smiled, there was such relief in her warm magenta eyes. "I'm so happy to see you!"

Regaining his composure, he gave her a quiet greeting. "Misora-san. Good afternoon. I didn't mean to intrude-"

"No, no! I was actually really hoping that I would see you today. Oh! I'm sorry. You're probably working right now, right? I won't keep you-"

"I am currently on a break." This should be an adequate answer. Yes, he could spare a small amount of time for her, but he would need to leave to resume his role as caretaker soon.

It was strange. If this was someone else, he was sure he would turn them down. Reject any notion of wasting time with them when Shigaraki was relying on him. However, he was intrigued by Misora. The strange things he felt, the odd spark that was just out of his reach of comprehension. He wanted to know what this was and why Misora and her daughter were able to bring forth that flicker of benevolence.

She tucked a stray lock of wavy blue hair behind her ear and beamed up at him. "If you have a minute, could you come into the café?"

He looked toward the café and saw that the customer that had been at the window seat was now leaving with a carry-out coffee cup. It was still risky since her employee was there, but this was difficult to resist. Just standing here with Misora smiling up at him was enough to add fuel to the spark in his heart.

"Yes. I have a few minutes to spare," he finally replied. Kurogiri followed her at a short distance, adjusting the crocheted red scarf he wore around his neck.

Her employee was now sweeping the floor and gave him a practiced smile with a nod. "Good afternoon, sir!"

"Yes. Good afternoon, young man." Kurogiri replied with an equally polite greeting, attempting to keep suspicions low.

"I wasn't sure when I'd see you again, but I guess my luck today must be good." Misora went behind the counter and crouched down to get something from a shelf beneath the countertop. "Or maybe you're the one with the luck today," she added, a sheepish tone to her voice. "Ta-da!"

Kurogiri's glowing eyes widened slightly as she straightened with a box in her hands. It was a cake box with a small envelope on the lid. He stared at it curiously as something odd occurred. It had only happened once before, with her, but his pulse felt like it was doubling. Like his heart was beating twice as fast.

"Happy Valentine's Day." Misora's voice and smile held an immense amount of warmth and she leaned forward, her hands gently adjusting his scarf. "I'm glad you came today; this way it won't be stale."

"This is…a gift for me?" He was hesitant to ask. Kurogiri had never once received a Valentine's Day gift. Mostly due to the fact that his interaction with women was extremely minimal; only when he was running errands for Shigaraki and he was forced to speak with a female clerk. Of course, he never received any sort of gift from All for One or Shigaraki. Yet this was the second gift Misora was giving him.

She nodded and tapped a fingertip against the lid. "Go ahead and open it. I want to know if you like it."

"Yes. Of course." Kurogiri was a little more interested in the card. As he lifted the envelope, he saw Misora tense. There was a rush of pink to her fawn colored cheeks, making her dark freckles that much more noticeable. He set the envelope into his vest's inner pocket, saw her relax, and it made him more curious.

The lid of the box was lifted and it revealed a homemade dark chocolate cake with what looked like little violet and black roses made from icing. As he stared at the flowers, he realized that she had made them with the intent to mimic the color of his warp gate. She had made this cake just for him.

"Misora-san. I am at a loss for words," he admitted.

"I know that I can't really repay you for saving Michiko's life. There isn't much I can do anyway; I'm just a café owner. But I wanted to do something special for you. This is something I can do. Kurogiri-san, I appreciate everything you've done for us. You really are our hero."

What happened next was unforeseeable. Nearly indescribable. Misora leaned up, through the man's smoky exterior, and her lips touched his cheek in an appreciative kiss. Light. Kind. The closeness bringing the smell of caramel and sweets. The second her lips made contact with his cheek, it caused a bizarre reaction.

The dark smoke rippled violently and Kurogiri's glowing eyes clenched shut as it felt like that thing at his core was trying to force its way through the veil of shadows. A bittersweet agony flared in his head and he bit back a shout. For a moment, everything cleared and he could see it. For a brief, terrifying moment, he knew what was at his core.

When Misora leaned away, she saw a brief ripple before the dark smoke rushed back to fully cover him. The woman stared up at him with wide magenta eyes, the pink hue of her cheeks spreading over the rest of her face as she lifted a hand to cover her mouth. "Kurogiri-san?!"

He bowed his head, smoky hands planted on the countertop as it was torn away from him. The fire that had roared to life at his core died down to a flicker the second she pulled away and with it went the terrifying truth that he saw. Kurogiri lost it as soon as it faded away; he was now unable to grasp it again. Unable to see it or even recall what it was.

"I must take my leave. Thank you for the gifts, Misora-san." He grabbed the cake box and opened a warp gate to leave. Before stepping through, he paused to look toward her again. The flicker grew stronger when he saw her flushed face and the sadness in her eyes. He did not want to leave her, but he knew this was dangerous.

Back at the bar, he set the box down on the counter and cut a slice for himself as well as Shigaraki. Kurogiri needed to focus on his duties to the villain and their master. Staying at the café would have put Misora and Michiko in danger and he needed to consider what had happened and why.

Shigaraki returned and settled across the counter from him, grumbling that he was unable to get a copy of the game. He ate the slice of cake with no question about where it came from and offered no words of thanks when Kurogiri gave him the game. Instead, he began to immediately play it and demand another slice of cake.

Kurogiri obliged and ate his own slice of cake in silence. It was not overly sweet and not overly bitter. He admired the black and violet roses again as he imagined Misora working to decorate the cake.

She had made the smoke clear. Not just from his head and heart, but from his body. It was both amazing and frightening. It made no sense. He could not understand why she had such an effect on him. Her quirk involved effecting the solidity of surfaces so he began to wonder if perhaps that was what she had done, but it was still a little too peculiar. He had never had something like that happen before.

Once Shigaraki had gone to his room to doubtlessly spend the next few days playing his new game, Kurogiri retrieved the envelope from his vest pocket. It was light so he doubted it contained another a gift. He found himself hoping that she had not put money into it.

Opening the envelope, he found a neatly folded letter. The words written in somewhat messy handwriting. His name at the top of this endearing letter in which Misora had poured out her heart. Thanking him profusely for saving Michiko's life and for making their holiday full of good memories when it would have otherwise been dark and sorrowful. Misora ended the letter with the words "You're my hero, Kurogiri-san."

It felt like there was a light pulsing within his chest, trying to push its way through the thick layers of darkness. He placed the letter down in front of him on the counter as he read through it again and felt the pulse grow stronger. The beat of his heart, the determination of that thing at his core as it struggled to resurface.

Kurogiri folded the letter neatly and tucked it away into his vest once more, wearing it over his heart. He casually picked up a glass and began to clean it. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he tried to recall what it was. That disturbing truth that he had seen for a brief instant when she kissed his cheek. Whatever it was, it was buried too deeply now. He knew now that he would need Misora if he wanted to grasp it once more.


	4. Chapter 4

NeonHorizon: Since I always have this from Kurogiri's point of view, I was wondering if anyone wanted to a part from Misora's point of view. Let me know.

* * *

March fourteenth. White Day. The day when one would reciprocate Valentine's Day gifts with a gift that would convey their feelings. At least, that was his understanding.

For the past month, Kurogiri had tried in vain to recall what he had seen on Valentine's Day when the thick darkness had faded from his heart and mind. Trying to remember what was hidden at his core beneath the murkiness. Each time he attempted to remember what it was, he struggled and found himself unable to find that part of his memory.

It was as if those seconds had been erased. He could remember Misora presenting him with the Valentine's Day cake and card. He remembered her leaning across the counter in her café to adjust the scarf he was wearing. He even remembered her drawing closer to kiss his cheek. What happened next had been important; he knew that she had somehow dissipated the smoky darkness from around him and had inadvertently revealed a horrible truth to him. Kurogiri simply could not remember what that truth was.

From Misora's reaction, he knew that she had seen something. He had left before he could ask, but he could tell that it surprised her. She had covered her mouth and her warm magenta eyes had widened in alarm, but at the same time a soft blush rose to her cheeks and highlighted her dark freckles. Whatever she saw, at least she was not afraid.

He was currently out running an errand. Time was precious, so he knew that he had to be quick about this small, personal mission. It was only right for him to give her a gift in exchange for what she had given him. A homemade cake and the letter, in which she poured all of her feelings of gratitude and joy.

Kurogiri had deliberated for weeks on what would be a suitable gift. She and Michiko were so kind, so accepting. They brought that small spark of goodness at his core burning back to life each time he saw them. He wanted to give her something she would like, but it had to be something useful.

A white hair ribbon and a small bag of white candies. He was sure that these would be appreciated and they were small enough to not be seen as overly forward. Kurogiri would simply enter the café, deliver the gifts, and then hurry on his way.

Of course, plans rarely go smoothly. The universe determined that at the exact moment he turned the corner, he would have a chance encounter that would change the course of his afternoon. The second that he turned the corner, his glowing eyes made contact with a rather pitiful image further down the sidewalk.

Misora's daughter was still wearing her school uniform, but there were smudges of dirt all over the front. Her socks were covered in dirt as well and one knee was skinned. The little girl's hair clip was askew and her pale blue hair was in disarray. There were tears streaming down the child's face and when she saw Kurogiri, she broke into a run toward him.

When the child reached him, she clutched his sleeve and started pulling at it. "Kurogiri-san, I need help! I-I need help! Please! These boys are-!"

He was instantly reminded of New Year's, when he had visited Misora and her daughter. The delinquents that had threatened Misora. Imagining her in danger stirred something deep inside of him. Kurogiri found himself unable to fight the urge to help her. It was so strange. Before meeting her, he could not recall ever wanting to help anyone besides Shigaraki and All for One.

"Show me." Kurogiri let her lead him, unsure of what he would fine yet preparing himself for the worst.

"Here! Right here!" Michiko stopped at the opening of an alley and stomped, her hands curling into fists at her sides. "Hey! I-I brought an adult so you'd better stop it! Stop it right now!"

Kurogiri peered into the alley and felt that stirring in his chest intensify. A pulsing, deep within him. Inside the alley were three boys that looked to be around middle school age. One of them was kicking a cardboard box as the other two laughed. There was a frantic mewing from inside of the box. His eyes narrowed and he stepped into the alley. "I will give you ruffians three seconds to cease-"

"Keep walking, old man! You don't want to start trouble with us!"

Kurogiri put himself between the boys and Michiko to hide from her what he was about to do. He began to approach them and when one of the boys ran toward him, he opened a warp gate in front of the kid. The boy went tumbling through; into the space where the warp gate led, a sidewalk outside of a station in Hosu. When the others boys saw this, they wasted no time in running from the alley.

Michiko hurried over to the box, still crying, and fell to her knees in front of it. "Are you okay?!"

He watched the two boys disappear into the distance and then turned back to the little girl. She was now lifting something out of the box. Something that seemed to fuel that spark at his core. The sight of this thing made him feel a peculiar hint of nostalgia, but he was unsure of why. It was just a small, white kitten with gray stripes.

As she hugged it to her chest, Michiko grinned. "I'm so glad you're okay! Kurogiri-san, look! This kitten…you saved this kitten!" She trotted over to him, holding the kitten up a little for him to see.

Staring down at the innocent creature in her hands, that feeling was growing. The goodness burning at his center beneath the layers of darkness. He reached out a dark, misty hand and patted the top of the kitten's head gently. "You wanted to save this kitten?"

"Those boys were picking on it! And…and when I tried to tell them to stop, they pushed me! But you helped me save her! You're a hero, Kurogiri-san!"

That word again. Hero. It had such an odd effect on him. The pulse grew stronger and Kurogiri took a step back as he tried to process this. The kitten and that word. It felt familiar, but he could not imagine how that was possible. He had never been called a hero before he met Misora; he was fairly certain of that. He also had no clue as to why the sight of the kitten brought a strange tightening feeling within his chest.

Shaking it off as best he could, his glowing gaze settled on Michiko once more. "Were you on your way home, Michiko-san?"

She had been brushing some dirt off of the kitten's back and stopped to nod. "I was on my way home. I hope…I hope my mom lets me keep this kitty."

He knew that time was fleeting. Soon, he would be expected back at the bar with his errands finished. Back in the bar, back to the dimness of its interior and to the thankless demands of Shigaraki. If it were not for Misora and her daughter, he may have never been quite so bothered by the blue-haired villain's lack of gratitude.

"I will walk with you," he offered. Once more, he reminded himself that this would need to be a quick visit. Deliver the gifts and then leave as soon as possible. Though, he wished he had more time.

As he walked alongside Michiko, he began to wonder what Misora had seen when the dark shroud of mist parted. He had not seen himself; he had been so fixated on the terrible truth at his core, something that he was now unable to even recall. Kurogiri was apprehensive about asking her. It was probably best to forget that the incident ever happened, even if it was now occupying his every thought.

Nearing the café, the little girl frowned and slowed to a halt. "I forgot to clean my room! If it's messy, my mom will definitely say no! Kurogiri-san, can you…hold the kitten? I'll be right back! I promise!" Michiko held the tiny creature out and as soon as Kurogiri took it, she sprinted into the café.

Now that he was holding the cat, the weird feeling from earlier was getting stronger. The kitten was purring and staring up at him with bright eyes. This felt somehow familiar, but as hard as he tried, he was unable to drag forth any memory of ever holding a kitten before. It bothered him greatly.

He was staring down at the creature for quite a while and happened to venture forward a few steps, inadvertently moving into view of the café front windows. The feelings of warmth, goodness. They were trying so desperately to push through the shadows in his mind and heart. He wished that he could grasp them and drag them to the surface so he might see it again. The truth that had faded from his memory so quickly.

The bell above the door chimed, making him lift his gaze and meet Misora's eyes. She had been smiling when she first stepped outside, but surprise quickly took over her features when she saw what he was holding. "Kurogiri-san, what's this? Is this a White Day present?" she joked, smiling warmly up at him.

The woman approached and reached out, stroking gently behind the kitten's ears and earning a chirp of a meow. Kurogiri watched this and felt his pulse double. The warm, kindness of her expression. The delicate way she handled the kitten. Such admirable features in this woman that had called him her hero.

Misora looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Kurogiri-san?"

"No, I'm afraid this is…best put as complicated," he conceded.

"Complicated?" She reached up to tuck a stray lock of wavy, pale blue hair behind her ear. "Want to come inside? We're pretty empty right now and you look like you could use some refreshment."

"Misora-san, I need to be on my way again as soon as possible. I came here to give you something as a token of my appreciation for the cake and the letter. I brought a White Day present-"

"You…didn't have to do that." The woman murmured this and looked away, a warm hue rising to her cheeks. "I appreciate it, but you didn't have to go to the trouble of doing that."

"It's only right, after the gifts that you gave me. I enjoyed the cake very much and the letter is something that I always carry with me." Kurogiri saw her face turning from slightly pink to a more reddish tone. "Misora-san? Is something wrong?"

"No. It just makes…well, it makes me really happy," she confessed. Misora turned to him again, smiling in a way that made his pulse double again. "I just wish you could visit more often. I only seem to see you once a month."

"I'm afraid my job only allows me small amounts of free time." He wondered why he was explaining this. Why he should even care about this. The answer was simple, of course. Misora made him feel things that no one else could. Pairing that with the effect her quirk had on him during his previous visit, he knew he could not stay away forever.

"So this isn't my White Day present?" The woman raised an eyebrow, a playful sort of half-grin taking form.

Remembering Michiko's fear that her mother would not let her keep the kitten, he knew what he should say. "Do you like it?" He saw her nod and he lifted the kitten toward her. "I suppose I should tell you the truth, then." As he explained the situation to her, he saw a plethora emotions cross her face.

She appeared proud when she heard that Michiko had stood up to the boys, then fearful at the part where the junior high school boys had pushed the girl. When it came to the part about Michiko asking Kurogiri for help, and when he told her what he had done, a bright smile curved her lips. "You really are a hero, you know? You always show up at just the right time."

Warmth began to emanate from that strange, good feeling at his core. Happiness. So strange, so foreign. Kurogiri had to look away from her joyous smile to try to keep his pulse steady and calm. "I believe Michiko-san's intention is to ask if she can keep this kitten," he finally admitted.

"Well, of course I'll say "yes"." She rubbed behind the kitten's ear and leaned in closer to Kurogiri. Her other hand lifted toward the side of his shadowy face, as if to cup his cheek. He leaned back, away from her touch, and the woman's smile fell. "I'm sorry. That was too much. Sorry I invaded your personal space. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

The sight of her forlorn expression, so hurt by his rejection, made it feel like something was squeezing his chest from all sides. Like he was being crushed beneath a weight. Yet another strange sensation he could not recall feeling before. "Misora-san, that is not why I drew away. I enjoy your company and you have become…special…to me. However, your quirk affects me in a strange way. Your touch is pleasant, but I cannot-"

"I remember." Misora stepped closer and still reached up, but instead of touching his face, she settled her hand on his shoulder. She beamed up at him, a warm hue highlighting the freckles spread across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. "You know, you shouldn't use your quirk to hide yourself. I like the way you look, no matter what."

This brought on more questions, but it felt like his voice was caught in his throat. Words refused to leave him and he stood statue-still as she leaned in and pressed her lips against his vest, over his heart. The simple, sweet gesture made him feel like there was an explosion within him. Warmth, bliss, acceptance, goodness, and something else. Something deeper than just happiness. Affection. Love.

As she pulled away, Misora gently took the kitten from him and gave him a curious look. "Are you alright, Kurogiri-san? Was that too much?"

Finally, he felt his throat working again. "Thank you."

She grinned and reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, but was intercepted by a dark, smoky hand doing it for her. The warmth of her skin making brief contact with his misty exterior as he brushed the curve of her ear. Misora's reddish-violet eyes half-closed and her smile grew sheepish. "Thanks."

Kurogiri, now remembering once more that he had a limited amount of time, drew her gifts from his pocket. "I'm sorry, Misora-san, but I'm afraid I don't have much time. These are for you. I hope that you enjoy these gifts."

"You didn't have to do this," she said, taking them with a smile. "Thank you. You're too sweet. Can you hold the kitten for a second?" He obliged and she set about tying her wild, blue hair back with the white hair ribbon, tucking the bag of candy into her apron pocket. "Well? How does it look?"

"It suits you very well."

Misora grinned and shook her head. "Come on! You don't have to flatter me!"

Staring at her hair, a thought came to him. The cloud-colored ribbon against the sky blue shade of her wavy, waist-length hair. Like a summer sky. This thought made Kurogiri wish he had more time. The flickering at his core, the desperate need to know what was trying to push its way through those layers of darkness. It was growing stronger and he wanted to know what it was, but he knew he had to leave. Staying for too long would put her and Michiko in danger.

"I do apologize, but I really must be going."

The bell on the door jingled as Michiko finally returned, holding a folded paper in her little hands. She saw him hand the kitten to Misora and she pouted. "You can't leave! Stay for dinner!"

"He can't. Michiko, he has to get back to work. You'll see him again, though. Right, Kurogiri-san?" Misora gave him a hopeful smile as Michiko frowned.

He wanted to. He desperately wanted to see them again and again so he could feel this goodness, this happiness, this warmth. The feeling of being so accepted and appreciated. "Of course," he replied without a second thought.

"Here! I made this for you at school!" The little girl held out the folded paper to him, her eyes teary. "Thank you for helping me today, Kurogiri-san!"

Taking the paper from her, he unfolded it to realize that it was a drawing. Made in crayon and a little sloppy, but it was a picture of him with the words "My Hero!" scrawled off to the side. He thanked her, assured the two that he would return for another visit, and briskly set off. Kurogiri feared that if he stayed any longer, he would not be able to tear himself away.


	5. Chapter 5

NeonHorizon: I'm going to be updating every two weeks until further notice.

* * *

It would usually be a month before Kurogiri was able to see Misora again. At least almost a week, in the case of New Year's. However, as with most of his year so far, the universe was smiling on him again today.

Only three days had gone by since his last trip to the café and he was standing behind the counter in the bar, contemplating the peculiar things that had happened. Aiding Michiko in rescuing that kitten from those young hooligans. Speaking with Misora and receiving that kiss, over his vest, above where the heart was located.

Kurogiri was still dwelling on the strange nostalgia he had felt when he saw the kitten. As if he had one a very long time ago, though he had no memory of it. In fact, any memories he had of cats were far from sweet. He occasionally saw skinny stray cats on the street or in alleys, but that was the extent of his interaction with them.

If he tried to remember anything beyond that, anything that might have happened in his youth, it was impossible. His youth was all a dark blur and it caused a slight pain in his head to try to think about it. Curious, but he knew that dwelling on it would be futile at this point.

Across the counter, Shigaraki was playing a handheld console and quietly grumbling to himself. Something about the game being rigged, something about an overpowered healer. Things that Kurogiri did not understand and had no desire to understand. When the muttering finally ceased, the villain lifted narrowed crimson eyes toward Kurogiri and he set the console down on the counter.

"I want something sweet."

It was probably one of the most peculiar things that Shigaraki had said so far that day, even after ranting to himself about the game. Kurogiri paused in cleaning a glass, his glowing yellow gaze settling on the young man. "Shigaraki Tomura, we don't have sweets in the bar. I replenished your snack supply-"

"None of those things you got are sweet enough."

Setting the glass down, Kurogiri felt something very strange. A flicker of what he could only identify as hope. Though it was tiny and buried deep beneath his curiosity about this desire for sweets. "What sort of sweets would you like? There is a convenience store near-"

"I want cake," he interrupted again, like the spoiled man-child that he was. "You had that cake on Valentine's day, didn't you? Get another one like that."

The little seed of hope started to grow. Here it was; an opportunity he wanted, but had not anticipated. "Shigaraki Tomura, that was a custom-made cake. It could take some time for them to make another one like it," Kurogiri began.

Before he could finish, yet again, Shigaraki started talking. "I don't care. Go order it and don't come back until you have it." He picked up his console again and resumed his game. "Why did you order a custom cake for Valentine's Day anyway?"

"I will return as soon as I'm able. Is there any specific design that you want for the top of the cake?" Kurogiri reached beneath the counter for the red crocheted scarf that Misora and Michiko had given him, but then thought better about bringing it out. It was already mid-March and Shigaraki was sure to ask questions if he put it on now.

The villain hesitated to answer, chewing at his chapped lower lip as he seemed to think it over. "I don't care. Just get the cake for me."

"Very well."

A warp gate was opened and Kurogiri stepped through to the alley across the street from Good Coffee. He had to admit that this was entirely unexpected, but he was not about to argue. If Shigaraki wanted the cake made by Misora, then Kurogiri was obligated to get it for him. Baking and decorating a cake could take quite some time, though. Kurogiri might need to wait at the café for a few hours, but it was what Shigaraki wanted so he was just doing his job.

Unfortunately for him, the café seemed to be quite busy at this time of day. It was mid-morning so the establishment was overrun with businessmen grabbing to-go orders and housewives meeting over coffee and pastries. Misora and her employee were doing the best they could to accommodate the busy moment.

Misora herself moved with incredible speed and grace as she went from one table to the next, delivering orders while her employee took payments and made coffees. The young woman gave each of her customers a kind, sweet smile and spoke to them in the brief moments she spent at their tables. Despite working so hard and the café being overwhelmed, she looked genuinely happy to be serving people.

Kurogiri watched for a moment, strangely mesmerized by the sight. She was wearing a coffee-stained white apron and her wild, sky blue hair was struggling against the white hair ribbon he had given her, but she still held this aura. Like she was a coffee goddess bestowing rewards upon her followers. He rather liked that; not many people could do what she was doing and still appear as if serving them food and drinks was her way of rewarding a good deed.

As much as he enjoyed watching her work, he reminded himself that he was there to acquire something for Shigaraki. Making him wait any longer than needed would be going against his duty. Kurogiri nodded to himself and set off toward the café, feeling a pulsing begin at his core.

The door opened with a jingle and he stood for a moment, contemplating if this was a mistake. In his haste to complete his errand for Shigaraki, he had overlooked his own appearance and the fact that going into this café would expose him to so many of its customers. Though, he began to realize, this never seemed to be an issue when he went to a game store or a convenience store. He had to wonder why he had such a worry over going into a café.

Before he could go to the line in front of the counter, Kurogiri heard Misora's voice clear as a bell over the cacophony of customers' voices. "Kurogiri-san! Ah! Wait, just a second!" She moved to the counter to grab a tray of coffees and cakes, effortlessly lifting the heavily weighed-down tray with one hand. "Kita-kun, can you grab a seat for Kurogiri-san? And the folding table from the storage room!"

Watching her flitter across the café so quickly, moving between tables with practiced ease, Kurogiri found his fondness for her growing. Maintaining such professionalism even when a friend appeared. When he thought of himself as her friend, however, it made him curious. Is that what she saw him as? He had to wonder just how she truly viewed him and what sort of relationship this was.

She had called him her hero so many times and she had poured her heartfelt thanks into that Valentine's Day letter, but she had kissed him. She had kissed him two times now. As Kurogiri was ushered to a table near the counter by her employee, he pondered the idea of asking Misora.

Kurogiri had no time to further consider this before the young man returned to his table and quickly set down a cup of black coffee and a plate of pastries. "Young man, I have not ordered-"

"Yawarakai-san said to give you these. No charge, sir." He hurried away, seeing some of the people in line grow irritated with him.

Looking down at the gifts, he decided not to argue. The coffee was made with finely roasted beans; no taste of burn and only minimal bitterness that he easily combated with some sugar from the shaker on the table. The pastries were light and fluffy; a buttery hint to the flavor that was complimented by the sweet cherry jam that Misora had used to put designs on them. Of course, he was not surprised that she had made such delicious food. Her cooking never disappointed.

When business finally started to die down and there were only a few customers left in the café, Misora finally made her way over to his table and pulled up a chair. "This is a treat," she started, beaming. "I never get to see you twice in one month. What's the occasion?"

Kurogiri felt a pang of guilt, deep down inside. "Yes, well. This is a work-related visit today, Misora-san."

"Oh?" Her smile grew a bit more and she quirked a pale blue eyebrow. "You've never told me what you do for work, Kurogiri-san. So what is it? I mean, if you don't mind me asking."

"Not at all." He paused, wondering why that was. Why he was so ready and willing to begin talking about his work. Though, of course, the full truth was out of the question. Best not to have her implicated in anything unsavory. "I act as caretaker to a troubled youth."

Now both eyebrows raised and she began to faintly blush. "Oh! That's really sweet! It must be really rewarding work."

"Rarely," he confessed. "I was sent to request a custom cake for him." Kurogiri finished the remaining coffee in his cup and thought for a moment before lifting his mug. "I suppose some coffee would pair nicely with it." Even if Shigaraki decided to ignore the coffee, Kurogiri would drink it.

"A custom cake? Okay, no problem! I'll make a special one just for him. Let's talk about the details first."

He described the sort of cake that Shigaraki wanted; dark chocolate layered cake with the same buttercream frosting that the Valentine's Day cake had on it and decorated with a design on top, which he decided to let Misora choose. "How long will this take to make?" he asked afterwards.

"A few hours. Is that okay? You probably have other errands to run so-"

Kurogiri held up a shadowy hand. "This was my sole task for the day. If need be, I would be more than happy to offer my assistance."

Her grin was bright and it made his pulse double. "Alright. Oh, wait! I have an idea. Just wait here." She left the table and rushed over to the counter to speak with her employee as Kurogiri finished the last of the pastries he had been given. When she returned, she was wearing the most triumphant of smiles. "I'm going upstairs to change and I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

The customers gradually left and Misora's employee flipped the sign to "closed". The young man began tidying up and Kurogiri, wanting to maintain his good impression on Misora and sympathizing with the employee, washed the dishes. "Young man, may I ask you something?"

"Huh? Oh, sure thing. What is it, sir?" The boy stopped sweeping the floor and gave Kurogiri a curious stare.

"How long have you worked for Misora-san?"

He rubbed the back of his neck and tilted his head a bit. "About a year? Yawarakai-san hired me straight out of high school, actually. I didn't have a plan and she needed some help. I just stuck around because she pays pretty well and she's laid back. Honestly, I'm kind of afraid to try to get a job anywhere else. No other place would have a boss like her."

"I see." Kurogiri heard the soft footsteps of Misora coming down the stairs from the living area above. He set the last of the clean dishes onto the drying rack and nodded to himself.

This woman, who called him a hero and seemed to admire him so much. She was strong. She was smart and kind, skilled in her craft. Her goodness resonated with the goodness buried deep at his core and he wished that he could express these feelings to her. She had pushed away the darkness from his head and heart, as well as his body. She had seen what was at his core and, oddly enough, she accepted him so completely.

"I mean, that's why you're dating her, right? She's pretty awesome. You're a lucky guy."

Kurogiri lifted his glowing yellow eyes to study the younger man, but soon they were both looking at Misora as she opened the stairwell door. The coffee-stained apron was gone, along with her professional attire. In their place was a pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt that had a dragonfly on it. "Misora-san. I apologize if I was out of line for interfering, but-"

"Oh! You didn't have to do that, Kurogiri-san. You're my guest."

"Today I am your customer," he attempted to correct her.

"No, no! If you think you're paying for this cake, you can keep dreaming! You've done enough for me and Michiko that you're got a lifetime pass!" She laughed softly and ran her fingers through her wild blue hair. "Alright. Kita-kun, you can head home. You've got the rest of the day off so try to study for those entrance exams, okay?"

Kurogiri watched the exchange between her and her employee. Misora was lightly teasing the boy about studying for his exams or he might not get into college. As the boy left, Kurogiri began to wonder about Misora. If she had graduated high school and if she had gone to college. She had Michiko at a young age, he remembered. Yet she owned a profitable café.

She led the way to the kitchen and gathered the ingredients for the cake, quietly humming to herself as she did this. As she moved around the kitchen, the light caught her necklace charm and made it glint faintly. She was still wearing it, after all of those weeks. His simple little gift to her on New Year's and she cherished it like it was a great treasure.

Misora always told him how grateful she was for everything he did. She called him her hero. She kissed his cheek, she kissed his heart. The young woman was so fond of him. Kurogiri had to wonder, though. When her quirk forced the dark mist from around his body, she had seen what was hidden beneath. He had not seen it at the time since his mind had abruptly cleared to show him something else. Something he could no longer recall.

As much as he wanted to inquire about what she had seen, Kurogiri was hesitant to ask her. There was no gentle way for him to question it. Asking her would bring the question of why he was asking. How he was unable to know what he looked like underneath the mist. Honestly, Kurogiri had never thought about it before he met Misora. Meeting her had caused quite a few changes in him.

Before her, he never cared about being appreciated. He never worried about the safety of the shops he visited or the people inside of those shops. Kurogiri never questioned his duty to Shigaraki and All for One. Now he found himself wondering so many things, but his dedication to his work kept him from showing this. To be perfectly honest, Misora's influence on him could be considered dangerous.

She was smiling in the warm, sweet way that she did as she mixed the cake batter. "If I knew you were visiting today, I would've planned something better for dinner," she started. "I took Michiko shopping with me last night and she wanted to make onigiri tonight." Misora's smile spread and she looked his way, her fawn-colored cheeks dusted pink. "Onigiri for Kurogiri?"

A chuckle left him, unable to remain stoic in the face of this strangely endearing joke. "Any food prepared by you is fine," he remarked.

Shaking her head, she poured the smooth dark batter into cake pans. "You should be more careful with that charm."

"I reserve this charm for you, Misora-san." He saw her blush darken and he wondered if that might have been the wrong thing to say. However, when he saw her grin, he knew she appreciated his words. The pulsing in his chest quickened, the light at the center of his core burning a little brighter as it tried to push through the darkness.

The cake pans were settled in the oven and she moved to the fridge next to retrieve a container of frosting. The dates on the lid indicated that this was freshly made. She pried open the lid and revealed the smooth, dark chocolate frosting within as well as its sweet aroma. "Do you want to taste test it first?"

"I suppose so." Kurogiri approached her side with a bit of caution. She slipped a clean spoon into the frosting to gather a bit and lifted it up toward his mouth. Curious, and still wary, he allowed her to bring it closer to his mouth hidden beneath the dark mist. The sweet taste of the frosting caused his glowing eyes to half-close and he stared down at the blushing young woman still holding the spoon.

Misora finally looked away and smiled sheepishly, bringing the spoon away from him. "Ah…so? What do you think? Not too sweet, right?"

Her reaction brought him confusion as well as a flicker of something he could only identify as affection. She seemed pleased, but nervous, and it was rather endearing. No one ever had this reaction to interacting with him. No one had ever looked at him the warm, loving way that she was now staring up at him.

"Misora-san, I must ask. What do you consider this relationship?"

"Huh? Oh. Well…" She ran her fingers through her wild hair, actually looking a little flustered. "I guess, I'd say we're _friends_. Right?"

He was quiet for a moment, taking this in. Friendship. The idea of being friends with Misora rather pleased him, but somewhere deep down the pulsing grew stronger. A shimmer of a memory too fuzzy for him to fully grasp and recall.

"I don't want to be too forward, you know? I know you don't really like being touched and I respect that."

Kurogiri was not ready for that. "Misora-san, you misunderstand. I am only wary of your touch because your quirk has an odd effect on my own."

"I told you before. You shouldn't hide under-"

"I have no memory of how I look beneath this mist," he interrupted. The words brought a tightening within his chest as he spoke them. His throat felt like it was closing and he stepped closer to her. "Misora-san, the only way that my mist is able to dissipate is with the help of your quirk."

She stared up at him with wide red-violet eyes. "Kurogiri-san…" Her voice held a deep sadness and she slowly reached up. The muscles in her neck tensed as she brought her hand close to the side of his face, where his cheek was hidden beneath layers of darkness. "I'm sorry. I'll control myself, but I just…that's…"

"I apologize-"

"You can't control what your quirk does to your body." There was a crack to her voice now, tears making her bright magenta eyes shimmer. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Kurogiri-san!"

"Misora," he spoke, dropping the "–san" from her name and seeing a warm blush spread across her face. "I greatly appreciate your friendship and gratitude. More than you could ever know."

"Can I…?" She waited politely for his nod before she brought her hand through the dark mist until it touched something solid. The young woman's other arm wrapped around him in a tight hug and she continued to stare up at him. "Kurogiri. I-"

The bell in the shop jingled and drew their attention seconds before running footsteps approached. Michiko appeared in the kitchen doorway to greet her mother, but froze when she saw Misora quickly turning away from the villain. "Kurogiri-san! You came to see us again?! Oh! You're staying for dinner tonight! You _have_ to!"

He focused his gaze on the child and was mildly amused. The little girl had splotches of paint and glitter on her school uniform, but she was grinning up at him. "I suppose I have no choice, if you insist, Michiko."

"I do! I _insist_! Huh? Wait…are you making a _cake_?!"

Misora took the girl's hand and started guiding her toward the doorway. "It's for Kurogiri-san's friend. Let's go upstairs and you can show Kurogiri-san how you've been taking care of the kitten. I'll get dinner started."

He followed them, feeling warmth begin to spread through him from his core. This simple activity of spending time with the mother and child brought him an undeniable sense of joy. As they entered the apartment above the café, he watched the little girl rush to her room to get the kitten.

Michiko had made a bed for the kitten, using an old crate and a faded blanket. She had a box of cat toys and cat treats that she proudly showed to him as well. Finally, she found the kitten in the apartment's bathroom and brought it to Kurogiri. "Here's Sashimi-chan! Look, Sashimi-chan! Kurogiri-san came back to see you!"

"Sashimi?" He accepted the kitten and held it up, gazing into its bright eyes. The kitten itself already brought on that strange nostalgia, but now pairing it with the name seemed to cause something peculiar within him. It felt like he could almost see it again; that strange truth beneath the layers of thick darkness. He could almost grasp it. This was both exhilarating and terrifying.

"I know, it's kind of a weird name. Michiko insisted that her name was Sashimi." Misora sat beside him at the table, setting down a plate of onigiri and a carton of cold tea. "Hm? Kurogiri? Is everything okay?"

The man's glowing eyes narrowed curiously as he brought the kitten closer to his shadowy face and he began speaking without thinking. "When I was young…there was a kitten by the name of Sushi. I believe. This memory is so murky that I can't be sure if it's true. I can't remember anything beyond this."

Misora half-smiled. "You had a kitten named Sushi? That's adorable!"

"Yes. I believe so. But, again, this is such an old memory and I can't remember anything else. I have no memory of how I got it or what happened to it. Just…that there was a kitten named Sushi."

"That's so _cool_!" Michiko chimed in.

Shaking off his bewilderment at the memory, he handed the kitten back to the little girl. "Yes. I suppose so."


	6. Chapter 6

NeonHorizon: A special chapter from Misora's point of view.

* * *

"Yawarakai-san, it's a real downpour out there. I don't know how much business we'll get today." Kita, her only employee, observed the torrential spring rain through the large front windows of the shop. He was sitting at a table near the front counter with various textbooks and a laptop; studying again for his entrance exams.

Misora came from the kitchen area with a plate, a hopeful half-smile taking form on her face. "You know we can't close up early. Some people depend on us. Here you go! I thought this up last night so let me know how it is."

He looked down at the sandwich, mouth already watering. "It looks great, but are you sure? You can take it out of my pay, if you want. I don't mind. We haven't had any customers today and you have to make money somehow."

She held up a hand and shook her head. "No way. You've been around for too long for me to treat you like a stranger. I wouldn't charge Kurogiri so I'm not going to charge you. Just consider this work; you're taste-testing a new potential menu item."

Mentioning Kurogiri made her glance toward the front windows. He had made a habit of visiting the café every day in the morning. Always with the same order; two coffees and a few particular pastries. He had visited every day for the past three weeks, even when the café was closed. However, today he had yet to make an appearance.

To say she had a crush on him would be strange. Misora felt like the term "crush" was reserved for girls in high school or younger. Besides, she knew so little about his background. Even his age was a mystery. Yet, somehow, the idea of not seeing him made her chest feel tight. What she felt for Kurogiri went much deeper than a simple crush.

When he was around, Misora felt like she was floating on a cloud. She felt weightless and almost giddy. He was so well-mannered and he was considerate. He was great with Michiko, too. Honestly, he was nothing like her ex-husband.

As she looked toward the front windows with hope blooming in her chest, Misora caught sight of someone. Though it was not the man she had hoped to find. This still sent her heart racing, but not in the same excited, warm way.

Standing outside of the café on the sidewalk, in the heavy rain, was a slender young man. Despite the somewhat cold rain outside, he was just wearing a pair of black pants, a black hooded sweatshirt, and bright red sneakers. He was just standing there in front of the café with his hands hidden in the pocket of his sweatshirt.

Misora's magenta eyes locked onto his scarlet ones through the window and she went into action. "Kita-kun, can you grab a towel from the back? And the old blanket from the storage room?" She hurried toward the door, seeing the young man shiver a little.

"Wait! Yawarakai-san, something seems kind of "off"! Hang on!"

"He's going to catch a cold out there! Please do as I say!" The young woman used her "mom" voice and turned to give Kita a stern look. "_Now_, please."

"R-right." He hurried into the back to obey, leaving her alone.

Misora kept her eyes on the young man outside as she approached the door, keeping her guard up a little. At the same time, her maternal instincts had kicked in when she saw him standing out in the rain looking into the café. He could not have been much younger than her, but he looked like a lost little kid.

She opened the door and held it open. "Here. Come in out of the rain, okay? It's like a typhoon out there." Misora offered him a smile.

He could be there for a number of reasons. He might have planned to meet someone there and he was too shy to go inside by himself. He might be lost and just saw that the place was open, but he was hesitant. He might even have been planning to try to rob the place. However, from the way he stood and the way he stared into the café, she was sure he was just lost.

The young man stepped inside without a word. No "thank you". No questions asked. He stood there, rain dripping off him onto the tiled floor as she closed the café door behind him. Not even taking his hands out of his pocket.

"Yawarakai-san, I brought the towel and blanket-" Kita went silent when he saw the visitor's face and he paused in his steps. "Ah…um…"

"Here. Let me have those." She took the supplies from him and set them on a table near where the visitor was standing. "It's pretty cold out there, huh? You want something to warm you up? Free of charge since I kind of dragged you in here," she tried to joke, trying to get a smile out of him.

He was pale. As if he never went out in the sun. There was a scar on his lower lip and another running down from his right eye. His lips themselves were a little ragged; as if they were severely chapped or like he chewed on them. His sharp, scarlet eyes narrowed when she gently pushed back his hood, but he stayed silent.

Misora took his silence for shyness. She was becoming convinced that he was lost. It happened sometimes; people wandered around the area looking for a shop that might have closed without them realizing or they just had a bad sense of direction. As she reached up to towel-dry his hair, she flashed him a smile.

"Hey, our hair colors almost match," she commented. There was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth and his hands moved out of his pocket. "Do you want to take off that hoodie? I've got a dryer upstairs. I can dry it for you and you can wait out this rain. We've got this blanket you can use to warm up while you wait."

"Fine. Give it to me." His tone was demanding and his volume was quiet. It was so peculiar.

"Alright. I'll grab a cup of hot chocolate-"

"Coffee."

"You'd prefer coffee?" She had started toward the counter to give him a bit of privacy to take off his hoodie, but paused to glance back at him curiously. She had to wonder what sort of person made demands like that when someone was trying to help them.

He had already peeled off the soaked hooded sweatshirt and now he was scratching at the side of his neck as he stared at her. "Kurogiri gets coffee. He always brings coffee from this place. I recognized the name. But today he had to do something. So selfish. He should've brought my breakfast before he left."

Misora's heart skipped a beat at the mention of Kurogiri. "Oh! You're-! Okay, okay! Sure thing! I'll make you the usual coffee he orders. Kita-kun, can you run his sweatshirt upstairs and put it in the dryer?"

Kita seemed a little reluctant to leave her alone with the stranger. Even if he did know Kurogiri, this man was nothing like Misora's friend. He was demanding and he was glaring at her as he approached the counter, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders and still not saying "thank you".

As she set a hot cup of coffee and a plate of pastries on a table for the stranger, she felt conflicted. On one hand, she was seeing another aspect of Kurogiri's life. This could only be the young man that he had said he acted as caretaker for. On the other hand, she had expected someone much younger and disabled in some way. This person just seemed a little socially awkward.

"Here you go. This is what Kurogiri always orders." She smiled as she watched him blow on the coffee, still expecting some sort of gratitude. It never came. Instead, he just started drinking and eating.

Misora ran a hand through her wild blue hair as she went back to the counter, feeling glad that Michiko was at school. As cool as it was to meet someone close to Kurogiri, she was sure that this young man would terrify her. Another glance toward him made her smile fade.

It had to be difficult to take care of someone like this. Demanding, angry, grumbly. Any time he spoke, it sounded like he was grumbling. She could only imagine the sort of demands he probably made every day. How busy he kept Kurogiri. Now it made sense why his visits had been so sparse before.

She was glad that the young man liked her coffee and her cooking, though. Since he enjoyed them, it gave Kurogiri an excuse to visit her. Even if it was just for short periods of time, she enjoyed every visit they had. He treated her a way that no one else had before and it left her feeling so light and blissful.

"So do you know where Kurogiri is today?" Misora decided to attempt to make conversation with him, hoping he might be able to tell her more about Kurogiri. She knew so little about him so any new details would be greatly appreciated.

He lifted his glare from the food in front of him and directed it at her. "He has errands. I don't know exactly where he went. Why do you care anyway? You're just a waitress."

She had heard this before. Sometimes people made this mistake and assumed that since she was so young, she was just an employee. "I'm the owner of this café," she explained, half-grinning. "And I care about all of my customers. I just thought it was weird that he hadn't stopped by yet today."

He scratched at his neck a little before picking up a pastry. It was now that she noticed that every time he handled the coffee cup or food, he was keeping his little finger extended. It was odd, but not so odd that she was going to question it.

"It's storming outside. Why would anyone risk their life over coffee? You shouldn't even be open. It's a waste of your time. No one's stupid enough to risk their life for something like this," he grumbled.

Misora trailed her fingers through her long, wavy, pale blue hair and grinned. "Well _you_ did," she pointed out. "So you proved yourself wrong."

He tensed and glared at her again before he started to eat the last pastry. When she took his plate from him, he said nothing and instead checked his phone. Misora brought him a hot chocolate when his coffee was finished and he still failed to thank her.

She had to wonder what kind of upbringing this young man had. He was dressed like one of the men that would normally stop in during their weekly run to the comic store, but he was acting like a spoiled brat. She was glad when Kita returned with the young man's hoodie.

"Here we go. Oh! Your hair is still a little wet. Let me just…" Misora grabbed the towel to try to dry it a little better, ignoring the way he grumbled to himself about it. When she was done, his pale blue hair looked kind of fluffy and she had to bite back a laugh. "There we go! That's better, right?"

He said nothing and shed the blanket to put his hoodie back on. Outside, the rain was actually falling harder than before and thunder boomed in the distance. Both Misora and Kita looked outside in time to see lightning light up the entire street before throwing it into semi-darkness again.

"Yawarakai-san…uh…do you mind if I-?"

"Ah. Go ahead, Kita-kun. Take some tea with you, okay? There's a fresh kettle of chamomile in the kitchen that I started earlier. It should be ready now." She patted him on the back, urging him to hurry. Misora knew he was terrified by the sound of thunder and sending him to the back room would make him the most comfortable.

Once he was gone, her visitor scowled at the sight of the thunderstorm outside. "Your employee's useless."

"Hm. Not really. His quirk just makes him sensitive to certain things." She went to pour a cup of hot chocolate for herself and stayed behind the counter, watching the downpour through the windows.

When her husband had left, Misora had been overwhelmed working in the café by herself. Kita's appearance was like a gift from heaven. Not to mention that he got along so well with Michiko. He was like a younger brother to Misora at this point and a kindly uncle to her daughter. Without him, she was sure that the café would have had to close. However, despite knowing her for so long, he always insisted on being so formal when he addressed her.

"What kind of idiot is afraid of thunder?" the stranger continued. "If I wanted to rob you right now, what good would he even be?"

She rested her chin in her hand and smiled. "But you won't."

"You don't know what I might do. If I wanted to destroy this place-"

"But you _won't_," she repeated. "Because if you _did_, you couldn't drink my coffee anymore or eat the sweets that I make."

He opened his scarred, chapped lips to argue with her, but he was interrupted as one of Kurogiri's portals opened near the door. The tall, shadowy man stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of the young man sitting at the table and Misora standing behind the counter. "Shigaraki Tomura, I've come to take you home."

The young woman raised a pale blue eyebrow curiously. "Kurogiri-?"

"We need to be going soon. Allow me to compensate you for the food and drink, Yawarakai-san." He approached the counter and set some money in front of her before turning toward the younger man. Not once meeting her gaze.

"Oh…th-thanks." She frowned as she tucked the money into her apron pocket. Misora watched him usher the blue-haired man toward the portal, a heavy feeling settling in her chest. He had never acted quite so cold toward her before. Normally, he would have at least asked how she and Michiko were that day. If Michiko was there, he would make polite conversation with the little girl and act interested in whatever she had to tell him. This Kurogiri was nothing like the man that Misora had fallen for.

"Have a nice day," she called after them.

The younger man went through the portal, presumably going home. Kurogiri paused half-way through and turned toward her. His dark, misty head seemed to nod and his glowing eyes finally settled on hers. "You as well, Yawarakai-san. Please take care."

She closed the shop early and walked Kita home before she went to pick up Michiko from school. The whole time, Misora felt that heaviness in her chest increasing. The usual light and airy feeling she got around Kurogiri was replaced by a crushing weight on her heart.

Michiko hurried up to the apartment ahead of her and went to take care of the kitten, leaving Misora alone to make dinner. She pulled her hair back with the white ribbon Kurogiri had given her, a frown curving her lips. He had treated her like a stranger. After everything they had been through, Kurogiri had acted as if she was just a casual acquaintance when she was sure they had become more than that.

"Mom, I made this at school! Will Kurogiri-san like this? Do you think he'll like it?" Michiko dug around in her backpack and held up a crayon drawing that made Misora's chest feel tight.

Something so similar to family portrait. It showed Misora, Michiko, and Kurogiri in the café. Misora's warm magenta gaze took the image in and she felt a faint heat rising to her fawn-colored cheeks. "I think he'll like it," she answered. "It looks really good, Michiko."

Her daughter beamed and took the drawing to the table. "I want to give it to him the next time he visits! I want to see if he likes it!"

The young woman winced. She wondered if he would visit them again. He had begun to visit every day and his visits were the highlight of her day. She loved talking to him and he was always so kind, so patient with everything. The thought of not seeing him again gave her a pain in the center of her chest.

She pushed the feeling down as she finished making dinner and brought it over to the table. Michiko needed her mother's full attention and she was going to give it to her. She listened to Michiko talk about her day in kindergarten, but felt a lump form in her throat when she mentioned Parents' Day.

Misora knew that her ex-husband would decline a request for him to go to Parents' Day. He was living overseas with his girlfriend. He could barely spare the time for an occasional phone call; let alone to fly back to Japan for a visit. The last time she even spoke to him on the phone was before Christmas.

Sitting in her room on her bed, long after Michiko had gone to sleep, she ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. She wanted her daughter to be happy so she would need to call him. The thought of talking to him was painful, though. Between that and Kurogiri's distant interaction with her, Misora's happy mask was beginning to slip.

She heard a very soft knocking and jumped. The young woman quickly stood, adrenaline kicking in as she thought of a possible burglar in her home. Thinking that Michiko may be in danger. She grabbed the bat she kept propped against the wall beside her door and swiftly opened the door, ready to smash the bat over someone's skull if she had to.

The apartment was so dark that Kurogiri mostly blended in with the shadows. His glowing yellow eyes stared back at her as he took a step back and there was a rustling sound at his side. "Misora. I apologize for the intrusion."

Magenta eyes blinked rapidly and she dropped the bat. "Kurogiri? What-?" She covered her mouth with a hand as he drew something into view from behind him. Her pulse quickened as she saw the red roses and she felt heat spreading across her face. "Kurogiri?! You didn't have to-!"

"I wanted to apologize for any trouble that my charge may have caused you today. May I come in?"

"Of course! Oh! We need to stay quiet, though; Michiko's asleep." Misora moved aside to let him into her room and closed the door behind him. She was getting that feeling again. Like she was floating on a cloud.

He took just a moment to look around her room. It was rather simple; a bed big enough for two, a dresser, and a bedside table with a lamp. The only decorations were photos of her and Michiko, with the exception of one photo that included Michiko's father.

Holding out the half-dozen roses to her, he bowed slightly. "Once again, I wanted to apologize for any problems that Shigaraki Tomura may have caused your café today. I was unaware that he knew the name of the café and I had intended to get his usual order after my morning errands, but they ran long."

She accepted the flowers and half-smiled. "He wasn't really any trouble," she assured him. "He's more a danger to himself than to me. When I first saw him, he was just standing out in the rain. He'll be lucky to not catch a cold."

"Yes, I believe you may be correct." Kurogiri paused and turned away from her, as if collecting his thoughts. "Misora, I also wanted to apologize for the way that I treated you this afternoon."

Hearing this made her heart feel heavy again and she shook her head. "No, no! It's fine! I just-!"

"At the moment, this…relationship…could be considered dangerous. My actions this afternoon were an attempt to protect you. My employer can't know too many details about this."

She had mixed feelings now. On one hand, it was clear that he was fond of her. On the other hand, the way he worded it made her seem like she was his dirty little secret. She almost wondered if he was actually married a female relative of the younger man. Worse yet was the thought that she might be an embarrassment to him.

"It's okay," she murmured, placing a hand on his arm over his sleeve. "I'm just relieved I didn't offend you or something." Misora flashed him a smile before turning to set the bouquet down on her dresser.

Her stomach did flips as she sat on the edge of her bed and ran her fingers through her wild, pale blue hair. "Kurogiri, can I ask you something?"

"Yes? What is it? Is everything alright, Misora?"

Hearing him say her name that way made her heart flutter and her smile turned a little sheepish. "Our relationship. What exactly is it? I said before that I wanted to be friends because I was afraid you'd think I was too forward. I know what _I_ want, but what do _you_ want?"

The dark, misty gentleman sat as well, but left some space between them. "I see no reason to keep it a secret from you any longer. Misora, I have grown extremely fond of you since the day that we first crossed paths. Honestly, I never expected for this to turn out the way that it did, but I must confess that I'm glad it has."

Her smile grew and she leaned toward him. "I'm glad, too." Misora cautiously lifted a hand, lingering just beyond the surface of his dark mist where his cheek would be. A shadowy hand lifted and took her wrist. Instead of pulling her hand away, like she expected, he pressed it through the mist to his solid cheek.

Misora's breathing hitched as her palm came into contact with his cheek and she fought the temptation to activate her quirk to make the mist dissipate. Instead, she went with another urge. Her free hand gripped the front of his vest and Misora leaned up, pushing her face into the mist and pressing her lips against a strangely cold pair of lips buried beneath his shadowy exterior. When he pulled her closer, she felt him hesitantly kiss back and her quirk subconsciously activated.


End file.
